


Captainly Duties

by Gildedmuse



Category: Firefly
Genre: Kink Meme, Light BDSM, M/M, Originally Posted Elsewhere, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 10:32:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18798571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gildedmuse/pseuds/Gildedmuse
Summary: The captain and Simon clash on plenty of points, including the fact that Simon can't never just listen to Mal like he's suppose'ta.





	Captainly Duties

**Author's Note:**

> [Posted for the 2009 Firefly Kink Meme]

**Captainly Duties**

 

"Excuse me, captain,  **I’m** the one unable to follow orders?”

 

There's a way Simon's shoulders go all stiff when he's mouthing off. Makes Mal wanna start... Well, he ain't rightly sure there is a word for what he wants to do to the pretty doctor. Hell, his mind gets all rutted up, and mostly Mal just wants to throw him against a wall and start... start.... Gorramit, he don't know.

 

Boy‘s eyes can go fierce pretty fast when he sets his mind to it though. Ain‘t so together as he normal acts, got some passion in there. Well, Mal would suspect. Wouldn't know, don't care either way. Just a way of describing him, that's all. Usually so restrained, uptight. Right prissy, some folks might call him, more than a few surely have. But when Mal gets him upset, boy does the doctor's face just bloom with flush. Don't seem so composed now, getting mad at his captain. "You're the one who can't even keep from pulling out your stitching, even after I told you that -"

 

"And you ain't listenin' to orders. Now, how's that go and make me look? You want us to be losin' yet another job on account of you and that sis of yours?" Right, Simon ain't the only one angry now. Mal's supposed to be putting himself in this yelling match just as hard as the boy. Mal's not so lily-white, though. Cheeks probably don't color so easily. Lips probably don't look so pouted, either, he thinks. Not that he's thinking such silly things, time like this.

 

"Oh.." Simon straightens himself out, looking so damn proud and upset at the same rutting time that Mal don't fully know what to think of it. Doctor leaves him confused that way. Sometimes goes on acting so lost out here in the black of space. Ain't his place, nothing like the lap of luxury he was probably living in back home. Brings out something in Mal, more than he'd like to admit. Knows he can't go about saving everyone, stupid thing for any man to try. Sometimes, though, these Tams need someone to keep them from getting swallowed whole by the 'verse.

 

But the boy ain't no weakling, core-bred dandy - he's gone and proved that more than enough for any man to see. But then he starts going about, getting upset with Mal, ordering him about on his own ship, it sparks Mal up. Makes him want to beat some sense into the boy, show him who’s captain of this fine boat. Sure as hell ain't him.

 

"Oh," Simon repeats, kind of distracting that he can do that shape with his mouth even now. Ain't he supposed to be yelling, making Mal mad? Sure as anything make this fight a little easier to start concentrating on properly. "I'm so sorry if I may have insulted your character in front of those thieves by not letting you bleed to death."

 

"Thieves," Mal points out, thinking that he's won this. Always thinks he's won these arguments, but that boy can never just go and give in. Suppose to be so smart, so gorram clever he can make it through that school of his back home. Well then why don't he ever know when to let the captain have the last word? "Who would have gladly taken you and your sister and turned ya both in for a pretty profit. That what you're after, cause if that's the case, got more than a few hands 'round here who'd be plenty fine gettin' that reward their own selves."

 

He just ain't about to give up. Mal can see the determination all over his face, trying to hold back all that fire burning. Always trying to act so mature, to mature. Too restrained when he should be throwing punches, that's Simon's problem. "You were bleeding. I'm a doctor, captain, I can't just allow my patient to bleed out because he's choosing to be an idiot."

 

"Who said I went choosing to be an idiot?" Ah, hell, probably could have said that one different-like. "You know, you're startin' to be too much trouble for me to handle, doc."

 

"No one asked you to handle me, captain." They actually having this conversation, or is this all in Mal's head? Hell, no, Simon ain't his sister, he can't pull thoughts out of heads just like that. "I'm perfectly capable of that myself."

 

"Then it seems to me you wouldn't be needing this ship for protection." It's a low sort of blow, knowing Simon don't got anywhere to go but here on Serenity. Ain't that always the case? "Now you start behavin' yourself or I'm gonna have to see you do."

 

There is that gorram flash to his eyes again. "And how do you plan on doing that, captain?" Way he spits out the title, Mal knows he's trying to get under his skin, using it that way. Well, it don't work. Simon got under there long before he started in with this.

 

Sometimes Mal just wants to go asking to Zoe to conk him a few times over the head. Seems he rightly deserves it for something, most likely. Certainly earned it recently.

 

"You fasten those pretty ears on me, son. I’m your gorram captain, you shouldn't be needin’ no remindin' of that." Mal leans in close to Simon, trying to make the boy back himself down before this gets too far... further, probably already gone long past the haul of too far. Simon may be a smart little thing, but he don't got Mal's height, and he certainly ain't about to start a fistfight, knowing damn well he can't be winning one. So it's cheap, yeah, but Mal's hoping it works all the same, never mind how cheap it is. "Folks known for listen to captains. Doctors listen to captains. Less you want to be locked away in your room less I come callin' for you, you'll start actin' like part of this crew and not some gorram spoiled rich boy. Hear me?"

 

"It may actually be a relief," Simon answers, still acting plenty the brat. "Not being around next time to make sure you don't bleed to death."

 

*

 

"Hmm... Stubborn, doesn't take well to be given orders, always sticks up for things he shouldn't... No, can't think of anyone else like that."

 

Zoe ain't half so clever as she thinks she is, Mal decides, glaring at her over the shared bottle between them. Would have expected teasing from her husband, sure as anything. Maybe some pushing from Jayne to just dump the doctor and his sis at the nearest rock if'n they were getting under Mal's skin so much, which is exactly why he didn't go asking Jayne to share this drink. Definitely didn't want to ask Kaylee, risk hearing all night about how lovely and perfect and handsome Simon is.

 

Thought Zoe would be safe. She's his friend, after all, stuck to his side no matter what. Well, almost no matter what.

 

She's laughing at him plenty now.

 

"Ain't half so funny as ya seem to be thinkin' it is."

 

Zoe coughs to cover the laughing, sitting herself up all proper like. "Sorry sir." Only she ain't, he can still see the tugs of her lips. "This what you were so determined to get drunk and talk about, sir?"

 

"I ain't talkin' about nothing." Well, except how frustrating that gorram doctor can be. He's the captain, he's gotta always be thinking of his ship and that means crew, too. And at the moment, one of the crew happens to be enough of a problem to take up much of his thinking time. "Just want to enjoy a drink is all."

 

"Mmm..." Zoe gives him that smile and nod that could just about lead a man to hitting her for being so damn confident about his state of mind. If a man were so inclined to get his ass kicked by her less than five seconds later. Hardly seemed worth the tussle. "Of course. You just happened to bring him up, is all. Right after finishing half that bottle."

 

Now when did that bottle get so empty? She's been helping, right? Mal can't quite remember, but he's sure she must have been. Only way to make himself feel a hair more sober. "I ain't talkin' about him. Just musin' out loud is all." That make it any better, really?

 

"Sorry to say, sir," Zoe says, hand landing on the table with a heavy, final sounding thud as she pushes herself up from the chair. "Thinking this is one of those things a man has to figure out himself. Mean time, my husband seemed awful disappointed in you pulling me off him for this. Might just have to go see to him about that."

 

"Boy should learn to follow orders!" Mal exclaims, ignoring Zoe's smirk, the way she's almost laughing at him as she walks out. "Just thinkin' we should do somethin' about it. That's all."

 

"Anything you say, sir."

 

You know, he's drunk, but he can tell when she don't mean it.

 

*

 

"You can't do this."

 

"You see, there is your problem," Mal starts, leaning himself against the door, watching Simon as close as he can. Not so hard, really. Ain't exactly an unpleasentness to the sight of him sitting at the edge of his bed, all rumpled up from too much work, too much stress. Boy should learn to relax himself up some. Could get someone killed, as tight as he's getting these days. "You ain't come to understand yet how this here works. I'm captain. I give orders. You're crew, you follow them."

 

"Right," Simon draws dryly. "You Tarzan, me Jane. I have it. You don't have to stand there beating your chest like you’re marking your territory."

 

"Ain't doing nothing of the such," Mal disagrees with a slow shake of his head. "Just seein' that you understand. You listen to me, or we got ourselves a problem. One that needs solving powerfully quickly."

 

"By locking me in my room."

 

Alright, the plan sounded clearer in his head, he'll admit. Mal ain't usually one to go planning too far ahead, but Simon had been the one who suggested it and, hell, it had sounded good enough then. Though now that he's got Mal thinking about it and all, may have been for the wrong reasons. Still, can't back down now, it'll look plenty weak in front of the boy and he's trying to make a point.

 

"By lettin' you know who’s in charge here. You went and disobeyed my order, you get punished."

 

"So..." Simon says, looking Mal up and down in a way that Mal wishes he wouldn't. "You lock me in my room and force me to listen to your inane logic all day, that's the plan."

 

If he was looking for Mal to start growling at him, well, he gets it. "Testing my patience, son."

 

Simon rolls his eyes, sighing as he pushes himself up from the bed. "Well, that would certainly be a shame, wouldn't it?" He stands himself up on front of Mal, not a hair of him afraid. Certainly ain't learning his lesson. "Because you've always been so patient with me."

 

"You're gonna want to stop pushing, doc," Mal warns him, so anything that happens, well, can't say he didn't go and give him fair warning. Most men wouldn't even give him that much. Makes Mal seem pretty damn honorable, really. "Just gonna get yourself in more trouble."

 

"Am I?" There are his eyes, all wicked when they light up, when he steps up closer to Mal. And those cheeks, already starting to go bright and red. Hell. "Maybe I want to push? Maybe it's time someone on this... this boat pushed you into act-"

 

Well now, Mal did warn him.

 

Can’t say the boy don’t have some fight in him. May be small, but he certainly manages something of a struggle when Mal’s holding him by the shirt, throwing him up to the wall. Mouth don’t seem quite as anxious to get away and - Ai ya, already open and more than eager to let Mal set him straight on just who is in charge here.

 

Well, save all that tussling about he’s still doing. Mal growls at him; boy don’t stop. Just makes this whining sound when Mal bites at his lips like he’s in desperate need of something. Feeling off all that heat rolling off him, Mal’s got more than a few ideas in his head of what that might be.

 

He sucks, nibbles, kisses those pretty lips of his until he’s damn well sure they’re tender from the attention. Wants it to almost burn when he kisses him again. Should he be kissing him again? Should he be kissing him at all?

 

He plants his leg up between Simon’s thighs and presses against him, hard enough to earn a yelp. That settles the boy down mighty quickly, body going nice and relaxed. ‘Bout gorram time.

 

“Take that fancy shirt of yours off, boy.” Just a push of his leg back against him, and he can make Simon whine, head lulling back against his shoulder. More coloring now than he thinks he’s ever seen on the boy before, too. Definitely, it has it’s way of making him look more than a bit debauched.

 

Gotta be a first, Simon don’t argue with the orders. He starts wiggle around again, which ain’t so good for Mal’s control none. Don’t seem to be too good for Simon’s, either, when he keeps rolling his hips up and making those sounds of his, like he’s trying to hold himself back still. All the little things he wants to start asking for, maybe a scream or two, all choked back into little whimpers and noises no decent man should be able to go making.

 

Mal feels like he might be forgetting something as he works on his own suspenders. Reason he is here other than getting Simon in a nice, locked up room ain’t so clear anymore. Well, until Mal’s fumbling hands slip, and in a flash the metal bracers free themselves up just a little too quickly, slapping themselves against Simon’s side, leaving a deep pink mark in that pretty pale skin of his.

 

“Gaisi,” Mal spits, bout the same time Simon is moaning and pushing himself up against Mal’s knee and well… Well, ain’t that just interesting.

 

Can’t help but smile a bit, looking up at Simon. “You like that, boy.” He don’t say anything, but really he don’t have to, seeing as how he’d just been rubbing himself up against Mal like he needed someone to hold him down. “Sorta odd for a doctor, ain’t it?”

 

“Well, perhaps River isn’t the only odd one.” Mal has to smirk when Simon winces, hitting his head back against the wall. “I can’t believe I just brought up my sister.”

 

Least Mal knows he’s got the real thing, awkwardness and all.

 

Makes it easier to remember he’s the captain, here to dole out punishment. Though he ain’t entirely sure how much it’s proper punishment if Simon keeps making those pleased little noises. “Why don’t you go ahead and turn yourself around?” Mal suggests, taking a step back to properly pull off his suspenders.

 

They ain’t much but, well, double them around some and they’ll do just fine for what he needs.

 

Seems that, for once, Simon is up to listening without his usual mouthing off. He lays down his shirt (come on now, doc, don’t have to be all proper, time like this), pressing up against the wall. Puts plenty of arch into his back, shows himself off. Gives Mal something to stare at.

 

There is something telling him not to go enjoy staring too much at all that white skin waiting on him. Disappearing behind the waistline of his black trousers, just makes it look more appetizing in Mal’s mind. Something that needs to be earned, tempting him to take more than he’s been rightly offered.

 

Must be staring a tad too hard, eventually Simon turns his head back, licking his lips. Just as bruised as Mal had planned then to look, too.

 

No, can’t be thinking he planned this. These things just happen.

 

“Are you going to - “

 

His grip ain’t quite right, but the suspenders make a nice sound when he flicks them into Simon’s back. Just hard enough to get him curving back more, legs sliding themselves apart. “Did I say you could start talking on, boy?”

 

“No.” Another yelp when Mal hits him, not even sure why this time but to see that deep red set in, watch it fade int pink. Gets him shaking, clinging to the wall like he’s about to fall down. “No, sir.”

 

Sounds wrong coming from Simon’s mouth, sir. But the sort of wrong that twists up in your gut, makes all your blood pump a little faster and hotter. Gets to your head and spins things around until you just want to bend someone over a desk and take ‘em hard. Until they’re squirming nst you, moaning for you at the same time. That sort of wrong.

 

Good enough that Mal strikes at Simon again, and again. Crossing his back in the pale marks, each one getting the same gentle whimper. Each one he tenses before pushing himself back out, asking Mal for harder, more, now please. Like between the hits he forgets how much he needs them.

 

Gets back at handling the cloth, finds the ways Simon likes to be slapped so that he bends back, pulling a whine from his throat. Sometimes gets more, muttered words that sound a whole lot like begging, please, sir. Stretching himself out against the wall, like he needs to be giving up more skin, more of whatever it is holding him together.

 

“Please,” Simon breaths out in ways that makes Mal feel all sorts of wicked.

 

Ain’t no rightful way Mal can be feeling so charged, all from just giving some boy a lashing. Only never known a boy before who starts moaning when he’s been struck, who holds himself up with his legs spread open and begging for more punishment.

 

Certainly never known, never even started to imagine, a boy as pretty and proper and Simon could have him so close to undone. No, this ain’t anywhere near what he had planned, but Mal don’t find himself arguing that point too hard.

 

When it looks like his back is going to start blistering, Mal drops the suspenders. The clatter is enough to get Simon’s attention, looking back at Mal. Wo de ma, those eyes are too dark and the way he’s looking up at Mal through his lashes, like he’s hardly there at all, it ain’t helping none. “Don’t-”

 

“Won’t do no good, having an injured doctor.” That why he got himself to stop? Mal thought it might have something to do with how he’s started shaking, wanting something so bad it can’t even be turned good by a miracle. Wanted to do things he ain’t sure Simon would want, would take with such willingness.

 

Rutting hell, but eagerness does look good on their tight suited doctor.

 

Boy winces when he turns himself around, back pressed to the cool wall he’s sliding down. “Is that it?” He sounds damn near disappointed. What else had he expected? Mal had hardly thought this out, sure as anything hadn’t planned on that right there.

 

Ain’t about to go taking it back, if’n he’s gonna be honest with himself, but that doesn’t make it a good plan.

 

Mal crosses his arms, tries to look like he’s got the slightest hint what they’re doing. “Seems to me you just needed some punishment.”

 

Line like that, it ain’t meant to get Simon smiling, but he does. Runs a hand through his hair and smiles, not so much at Mal, but a grin all the same. “Mm, perhaps.” His eyes linger over Mal, and in a second he’s reaching forward, fingers barely brushing the front of his trousers.

 

Dì yù de tian, boy is going to drive him out of his gorram mind. Has had plenty of thoughts on Simon, but never thought on how he could look just sitting there, hand outstretched towards Mal. Must be seeing those pretty lips all bruised up. Or that expression that, for once, he ain’t even trying to mask. Just looks determined to get himself ruined nice and proper.

 

Mal’d be more than glad, helping him out on that account.

 

“I could-”

 

“Way I remember it,” Mal starts, not stopping Simon from getting onto his knees. Not a man in the ‘verse, Mal figures, could have seen the boy crawling up to them and would have stopped it. “We just had a talk about taking orders.”

 

Simon looks so content when he smiles, fingers hooked into Mal’s gun belt and breath way, way too close. Even through his heavy trousers, he could feel that breathing, too slow and soft for everything else about him that looks ready and hard. “You didn’t give any orders, captain,” Simon reminds him, and that prim little voice of his shouldn’t be making Mal want to kiss and hit at him all at once. “You didn’t say anything. I was merely suggesting…”

 

‘Don’t really care what you were suggesting, doc,” Mal answers, curling his fingers in all that hair of his and giving him a pull. Simon’s head snaps back with the tug, throat bobbing with that awfully pleased sound he’s making.

 

Mal can just watch his chest rising quicker with every pull of his zipper. Feel him start to squirm the more anxious he gets, working himself up. Well, Mal‘s already there. Already hard and close to shaking and not sure when he went from trying not to let these things get thought out to dragging Simon across his knees, pulling him down. “Was telling there, boy.”

 

Something about being yanked around that Simon seems to like. Lots of things Mal ain’t never even considered that Simon seems to be liking, and this one makes him purr. Something close to a purr, Mal’s not in any state to be paying attention. He’s listening to the blood rushing through his ears and concentrating on the way Simon wraps his lips around the head of his cock like he’s aiming to please.

 

There’s lots to say about talent, of course, something more to say about talent and eagerness. When a person’s looking like they want to get themselves used, begging to have that pretty mouth of theirs fucked and ruined, that crosses most of those lines. Leaves thinking to other folks, folks that ain’t so busy enjoying lips and lapping up the spikes of pain every time Mal gives him a pull.

 

It doesn’t help Mal’s already lost his head when he forces Simon down, and Simon moans when he chokes, fighting against Mal just enough to get himself hurt. Now ain’t this a sight, the pretty and made up doctor acting like a common slut once you give him enough.

 

Looks damn pleased with himself when Mal’s fingers tighten up, thrusting hard into the back of his throat. Down into his mouth, making damn sure Simon stays where he wants him when he comes, not that Simon looks to be going anywhere soon.

 

He swallows and moans, and when Mal finally lets him pull back there’s cum trickling from the corners of his mouth. Never seen a man look as thoroughly used as he has, still panting as he stares down at Simon licking his face clean.

 

Never going to be able to properly look at the doctor again. Not without seeing those lips all spread out around him. Not without imagining him running a finger down his chin, licking them off so slow it keeps Mal dizzy a good long while after he’s managed to stop spinning from coming.

 

“You…” Mal nods down to get his meaning across without actually having to get words out of his mouth. Feels a bit too heavy for that at the moment.

 

Simon starts pushing himself up, but that don’t seem to be working. At least Mal ain’t the only one in such a state. Ends up just closing his legs up instead. Now ain’t such a good time to be acting all innocent, doctor. “No, I already…. During the beatings… It’s been a while.” He closes his eyes, goes back to looking like the awkward doctor once again.

 

Mal don’t even get glared at when he smirks. Feeling pretty damn good about himself in this moment right here.

 

“Well,” Mal mutters, content and slow, like a man whose been well pleasured. Surprisingly, really, but not a bit unwelcomed. “Seems you’ve gone and learned your lesson.”

 

“What lesson?” Simon asks, eyes opening right back up, staring at Mal with all their usual fierceness. “That you’re a complete lost cause when it comes to following orders, even if it means not bleeding out in your own ship when there is a doctor right there?”

 

He really is never going to learn how to handle this boy.

 

*

 

“Wo de tian, a. Please tell me this is some sort of cruel and childish prank.”

 

Do they go teaching that look in the core? That mix between total concern and utter annoyance. Seen Inara wearing it too, more than likely because of him. Simon’s wearing it right now, shoulders up right and straight, lips curved down.

 

Mal almost smirks, thinking of other ways Simon’s been looking at him. Only thing that really stops him is the pain shooting up his side.

 

“Fraid not, doctor,” Zoe fills in, hauling Mal’s arm from around her neck and dropping him onto the table. He ain’t sure if that’s punishment for ripping his stitching open, or just because she hadn’t been wanting to help drag his limping self down here in the first place. Which, again, wouldn’t be happening if he hadn’t torn out that stitching. Ain’t his fault they started to itch something awful. And it’s not like he could go about not using his legs.

 

Thing Simon don’t seem to understand is Mal can’t just go to bed rest for a few shallow cuts. Someone’s gotta be up, captaining this here ship and it damn well better be him.

 

With the sigh of a man pushed to his limits, Simon goes and pulls on a pair of gloves. “I suppose I’m required to make sure he doesn’t bleed out, despite the fact-”

 

“You okay, doctor?”

 

“Huh?” Simon turns around, looks just about as confused as Mal. Both of them staring down at Zoe, waiting for her to explain, mayhaps. “Pardon?”

 

Since Zoe is staring at Simon like she ain’t sure to be worried or not, Mal takes a second look at the boy. He’s got little marks over his chin, like someone went biting down on his lips just a little too hard. Shirt covers most of him, but Mal can pick up glances of his skin around the collar, little red welts peeking out from behind the fabric.

 

He rubs his neck almost subconsciously, and Simon instantly pulls his collar up a little harder. “Oh, yes… yes, I’m fine,” he says, sounding about as convincing as… Well, Mal ain’t really sure anything sounds less convincing than Simon when he’s trying to lie like that. Good boy, but not the best at trickery in that way. “I just…”

 

Makes the gorram mistake of going to look at Mal like he has the answers. Which just gives the whole thing up to Zoe. Aiya. She ain’t Jayne. She ain’t gonna be so stupid, boy.

 

Sure enough, Zoe don’t go disappointing Mal’s expectations. Still don’t give her no reason to go smiling like that. “Oh,” she says simply, wearing a powerfully annoying smirk that she’s flashing in Mal’s direction. He honestly tries scowling back at her, getting a mite distracted by the way Simon keeps messing with his collar, trying to hide the bruises from last night. “Well, I guess I better leave you to… deal with your patient.”

 

“Can hear that, you know,” Mal yells out after she’s shut the door on them, not quite drowning out the sound of Zoe laughing at him. “I do believe that woman has strange thoughts as to us in her head, doc.”

 

Simon snorts, already standing over Mal, preparing to sew him shut again. “At least you didn’t have to put up with your sister telling you about all the ways I could be hurt without actually getting myself hurt. I believe it was the most awkward conversation I’ve ever managed to hold.”

 

Back to prim and proper, dressed up doctor then. But Mal sees at least a hint of a smile, and decides that if he can’t get the boy to go about listening to orders, this would be close enough. “Gonna have to have my own talk with little sis.”


End file.
